Moirewrtes - Blog Posts
Devil John 13 - Friend
The end of the Devil John story!
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: explicit
Excerpt:
“So you've decided to ignore me. No matter. At least now you will have finally accepted that you are gay.”
“I'm not gay.” John says.
“What?”
“My entire life and most of my afterlife I've been trying to fit into boxes that other people have made. I won't do that anymore. I'm not gay...or straight. I'm not a soldier, or a man, or even a devil. I don't identify as any label you can make up. I am simply myself, John. I will love who I want, do what I want. I don't need your approval or anyone else's. I don't need others to tell me what my limits are. I'll find them myself. I was so enslaved by my own identity that I hurt Sherlock. I made him feel like he wasn't right, like he had to change himself for me to love him. I never realized how my discomfort in my own skin caused him pain. I acted badly, and I'm sorry. I hope that he realizes that in the end.”
“He will once he's here with us. Human lives are only so long.”
“He's not coming. I set his soul free.”
“What did you say!” Moriarty screamed rising to his feet. “Imbecile, stupid ignoramus, did you say that you set him free?” Moriarty walked around the table and placed a red claw on John's neck. John looked up at him unconcerned.”
“Yes, I let him go. He was still alive. Even so, he was willing to submit to eternal torture just to keep me company. That's true sacrifice. Loving someone more than anything in the world. Sherlock tried to show me again and again, and I was too much of an idiot to see it, until now. So chain me up to that wall. Burn me. Tear me apart, or whatever it is that you plan to do. Sherlock is free, and he can go on to his reward. I hope that it makes him happy.”
John squares his chin and closes his eyes bracing for a blow,
Read on AO3
Devil John - Chapter 12 Live
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: Explicit (yes it is)
Excerpt:
Sherlock spoke haltingly, words spilling out in bursts. “I was being prepped for an x-ray, concussion, when I found out. Mycroft walked into the room. I knew the moment that I saw his face. I remember running. There was... yelling. The next thing I remember, I was in the morgue. Molly was there. I saw your body on the table and I...” Sherlock' closes his eyes, burrowing his face deeper into John's chest as he holds on tightly to his shoulders. “I threw myself on your body. I think I wailed. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I broke down completely. Molly must have kept the others out, because they didn't force me back to my room. I wouldn't have gone anyway. I couldn't have gone. I couldn't leave you.” John felt tears on his chest. Then nails bit into his shoulders.
“if he hadn't already been dead, I swear I would have killed him myself. That man who shot you. I would have torn him limb from limb and cast the bits into the sea. I told them that I would, and I threatened anyone who tried to take your body from me. I know I stayed there overnight, and possibly the next day. Mycroft must have pulled strings…I woke up on Molly's bunk. They had put your body in refrigerated storage, but they still didn't force me to leave. So I put on a lab coat and observed you. That's when I took the cast of your wounds. I was analytical, detached. I thought that I was better, but apparently, no one one else did. They treated at me as one gone insane. In truth, I suppose that I was. A large part of my life ended the day that you died.
More on AO3
Devil John 10 - Love
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: Explicit
Excerpt:
“You weren't always honest with me, Sherlock.”
“About what?”
“About you. In fact, it seems to me that we could have saved ourselves a lot of grief if you had simply been a little more honest about your feelings from the beginning.”
“Me? I should have been more honest?”
“Yes. You've had feelings for me as someone who was more than just a flatmate for... I think a very long time now, and yet you never said anything to me about it.
“I've had a lot of time to think, and it seems that you and I are compatible as sexual partners as well as business partners, and if you had just confessed your feelings before Mary and all of the rest of this had come along, then we could have avoided so much of the problems that we went through.”
“Oh really? Is that all?”
“No. You've always projected this ...image of yourself. This way that you want the world to see you, and because caring about me didn't fit in your plans, you repressed those feelings, pretending like you didn't feel any desire for me. But I could tell how you felt. I saw the way that you looked at me. How you were jealous of me. But whenever I tried to mention those sorts of feelings, you would shut me down. Despite the fact that I killed for you, that I've died for you even, I was never quite good enough for you to admit to wanting. I know it's too late to change the past, but I can't help thinking that if things were different, if you hadn't loved your image of yourself more than you loved me, then we wouldn't have had to settle for this fractured half-life that we're living now.”
Sherlock took a sip of his scotch and smiled crookedly before lifting his hand to touch his head. “I had to check to see if their was a name on my forehead, because everything you just said….that's exactly how I would have described you, John.”
on AO3
Devil John
Chapter 2 - Hell
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: Explicit
Summary: John is dead, but that’s not the end for him. Not when he has a soul left to corrupt.
Excerpt:
The room is dark, illuminated by a bare yellow incandescent light hanging down from a pale cord that has been tied in a hangman's noose. Light pools around his feet in a circle fading away into blackness. The world outside of this little circle of light is darker than a starless night, blacker than a coal mine.
Along the wall, he sees small black spiders scurrying around. They sit just outside the circle of light. Their red eyes glowing, their bodies hidden in obscurity.
“Back with us now are you, Johnny?” sings a voice with an Irish accent. “It's about time.”
John watches as Moriarty walks slowly toward him, defiling the circle of light with his very presence. He's wearing the Westwood now, under a black knee-length coat with a blood red lining. His eyes bore into John's naked flesh and he sneers.
John looks down. There are scars on his hairy chest. His bullet wound from Afghanistan is back now. He pushes to his feet, not wanting to show such vulnerability to an enemy. His back scrapes against the coarse wall and starts to bleed.
“Moriarty! This is the kind of thing that I'd expect of someone like you. I knew it had to be a trick. Where are we, and why are you holding me here?”
Moriarty rolls his head back with a sigh. Then he stomps around in a tiny circle bobbing his head from side to side in frustration as he cries, “Hell and Devils! Are we back to that again, Johnny Boy? I SO hate repeating myself.” Moriarty whips his head around to glare at John as he yells. “WHERE ARE WE?”
His voice hits John like a slap, and he falls to his knees.
“Now Johnny boy, Tell me WHERE! WE! ARE!”
“In Hell,” John says quietly.
Continued on AO3